


Arabic Coffee

by vespergray



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3662865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespergray/pseuds/vespergray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira refuses to think about what is going on between her and Julian Bashir. It's easier to just think about coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arabic Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) I love these two together and it's oh so sad to me they never got together. I had to finally put them together in a fic.

Kira and Bashir had never been close. 

Sure, they worked together. Spoke. Were friends, even. But nothing more than that. Nothing more than sometimes friends and colleagues. 

He was a nice guy. Sweet, hard working. Not her type. He'd always had a thing for Dax. A thing she knew would never work out. 

Maybe it was the damn coffee that did it. He had offered her Arabic coffee in a tiny cup one day at the bar. She tasted it and it was....strong. But it was like falling in love. Dark and strong and probably not good for her, but she drank it all. When she finished the cup and handed it to him, he smiled a smile that made her stomach twist slightly. She had never seen him like that before. 

And in a flash there he was, goofy...definitely non-sexy Bashir again. 

But she kept going back and ordering Arabic coffee. And she would always bring him a cup, too. Nothing changed with their conversations- just with their looks. 

They would look at each other and it was...odd. Strange. 

But arousing, Kira had to admit to herself. There was heat there. A flickering heat that she wanted to smother out. 

But she kept going back with the damn coffee. And kept smiling at him. And letting him smile at her. 

Then the talking would begin and it was business as usual. 

I have to stop going, she told herself. It's not right. It's like I'm...looking for him to make a move. And I shouldn't. We work together. We can't. 

He's not my type, anyway. 

She went that night and got a cup- two actually. One for Bashir. 

She hated that her heart sank when she realized he wasn't there. Probably in the infirmary. 

She hated that her feet were carrying her to the infirmary. She hated how she handed him the cup with a...giggle. She hated the flirty tilt of her voice. She hated how his eyes seemed to be taking her all in. 

She hated the way he suggested they go to dinner. 

But she forced herself to say no. She made an excuse- she had to go to bed. Tired. She hated how much she wanted to go. 

I can't. I can't. I can't. 

In the shower, she tried to drown her thoughts. She stuck her head under the hot water and let it run over her skin. 

Stop thinking about him. Stop. Stop. Stop. What are you doing? 

She was so focused on stopping her own thoughts that she didn't hear the door open. Her hands immediately clenched defensively into fists when she realized someone was in her bathroom. 

Her shock when she realized who it was made her speechless. 

Bashir stepped into her shower, naked. There was a moment where she took him in. He took her in. She wanted to speak. But she shoved her mouth on his. 

No thoughts. No thoughts. No thoughts. 

His hand slid down her stomach and her insides quivered. His hand was between her legs and she closed her eyes, sinking against the wall of the shower as his devoured her and his hand...

Oh, God. 

His thumb pressed against her clit and she dug her fingers into his waist. How did goofy, non-sexy Bashir know exactly how to touch her? How did he know how to make her wet so quickly? He added a second finger and made the movements swifter. 

Her head fell back and she squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she was going to come soon and Bashir-of all people- was going to be the reason for it. He squeezed her clit just slightly between his thumb and finger and she groaned. No. no, no, no thoughts...

Every night, they fell into a rhythm. He knew what she liked. He knew that she liked it when he blew on her thighs before running his tongue over them. She knew that he didn't like to come until the last second when she gave him a blowjob. He liked her to tease and tease and tease with her tongue until he couldn't take it anymore. 

She knew the feelings for him were growing, but she felt powerless to stop it. The night he bent her over the table in the infirmary and fucked her, she felt something more. More than the sex and the orgasms...when he whispered hoarsely “I'm going to come, Kira,” she knew she was falling into something as deep as an ocean. She savored his words, felt him come inside her and she wished things would never, ever change. 

She still wasn't ready to go there. Still wasn't ready to think about the consequences. 

She just ordered another two cups of coffee and ignored the heat that rushed to her thighs when she thought about him licking it off of her. 

She gritted her teeth and ordered a glass of ice water as well.


End file.
